


True Colors

by MrBalkanophile



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Community: cornerflag, M/M, Underage Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-18
Updated: 2010-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-16 02:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrBalkanophile/pseuds/MrBalkanophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/cornerflag/8869.html">Issue 6</a> (intra-national uncommon pairings) on <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/cornerflag/">cornerflag</a>, an English fan fiction webzine.</p>
    </blockquote>





	True Colors

**Author's Note:**

> [Issue 6](http://community.livejournal.com/cornerflag/8869.html) (intra-national uncommon pairings) on [cornerflag](http://community.livejournal.com/cornerflag/), an English fan fiction webzine.

«They’re coming.»

The first team walked on the pitch with the confidence of a well-organized platoon, one after another with their blue training shirts and focused expressions: they started the training promptly, following the orders given by mister Petrović’s assistants, and soon the air was filled with the shouts of the players and the clear thuds of the footballs.

«Okay, babies,» the youth team trainer said, talking with the half-hearted tone of a teacher bringing his class for a play-day, «stay on the bench and don’t bother anyone, or you won’t see the pitch until Christmas.»

«Sure, mister» they muttered in reply, apparently as bored as him.

«Fine. Just pay attention to the training and try to learn something… maybe someone of you will rise high enough to play with them, sooner or later» he added with a grin, leaving them alone and looking for someone on the other side of the field.

«He doesn’t think we’ll be able to make it» someone muttered at Dejan’s back, somewhat disheartening.

«Who cares if you don’t.» Dejan avoided the cuff as he had eyes on the back of his head and turned his attention to the pitch, looking for anyone that could help him escape from boredom. The June sun was already high in the sky and he was already bathed in sweat after just an hour, as his teammates were: then, moments before Dejan was about to doze off, he was shaken off by the loud thud of a football kicked hard against the crossbar.

«… ‘at da hell» he gabbled, standing up and looking toward the goal: a free kick training was going on just outside the penalty area, and the footballs kicked by the lone player were as fast and powerful as guided missiles; at least half of his kicks ended behind the goalkeeper, and Dejan was so astonished when he recognized Siniša Mihajlović that he forgot the heat and the boredom at once (and every time Dejan thinks about that moment again, even now, he always feel like he can forget his own name, age and role again and again).

Dejan just stood still aside the white border of the pitch, slipping the hands into his shorts’ pockets: he was barely aware of anyone else around him, the magic of those free kicks completely filling his head and switching off his senses. Even the scent of the freshly cut grass, a smell which Dejan loved since he was a kid (or, at least, since he was an even younger kid than he was then) because of his parents, suddenly lost its appeal.

After dozens of tries, Mihajlović headed toward Dejan: he was covered in sweat and he looked dead tired, but he accepted the towel handed by Dejan with a little smile. Before leaving for the main building, though, he winked so blatantly at Dejan that made him blush.

«It seems Mihajlović has a soft spot for you.» It was again that boy – Dejan had arrived just a week before, and he can’t remember anymore who he was – but his voice was shaded in bitterness. «Too bad he’s leaving for Rome.»

«He’s a legend of ours,» Dejan retorted angrily. «He won’t-- he can’t leave.»

«You’re so childish» he laughed in reply. Dejan ran away, bumping into Siniša in a corridor he entered without exactly knowing why or how.

«Oh, I’m sorry…» Dejan babbled, feeling his face turning pink again. «I didn’t mean to, well--»

«Hey, look who’s back: you’re the kid who was looking at me right before» Siniša said cheerfully, patting Dejan’s head with his hand. «Your name? Why so upset?»

«I’m Dejan, sir. And it’s nothing, I’m fine, thank you.»

«Good» he replied, kissing Dejan on his forehead. «Babies should never be upset. Go back to your friends, now.»

Dejan nodded, but he stood still in front of him. «Can… can I ask you a question, sir?»

«Sure» Siniša replied, looking at him with curiosity. «If you don’t call me “sir”. I’m not married and I haven’t got a grey beard for sure.»

Dejan smiled for a bit. «It’s true you’re leaving, isn’t it?»

«Yes.»

«Are you coming back here, someday?» Dejan added discouraged. «Playing with m-- with us?»

«Why should I?» Siniša replied with a grin. «But you can train and become good. Good enough to leave for Italy as I’m going to do.»

Dejan wondered about his words. «If I make it, will you teach me kicking like you do?»

Siniša laughed so hard that Dejan’s head was shaking at the same pace of his chuckle, forcing the kid to lean against the wall of the passageway. «Maybe. Yes, I could definitely teach you» he said at last, slapping gently Dejan on his neck, and then he left for the locker room, waving at Dejan while walking along the corridor.

* * *

«... Hi.»

Dejan’s voice was quiet and controlled, and still his glowing happiness was easily perceptible; Siniša smiled without turning around, focusing on his own travel bag, and waited for Dejan to say something: but the younger boy stood in silence.

«I’m happy to see you again» Siniša said finally, turning to him and looking straight in his eyes. He knew exactly how much Dejan had changed in five years, even without the rare Serbian magazines he managed to get his hands on, but he still managed to see the shy kid in Belgrade behind the grown-up appearance. Siniša bit his own lip for a couple of seconds, and then added: «I always knew I would live enough to see you again wearing my colors.»

«Not ordinary colors» Dejan noticed in awe, while Siniša looked away and gazed at the white and grey floor tiles. «I always dreamt to wear them.»

«You’ll do it next Wednesday. And for many years to come.»

Dejan laughed, slightly embarrassed. «Wish you could read the future. Then, I would ask you what do you think I could say to you now.»

«Something like “Hi Sini, would you like a hot, strong coffee at our bar?”, maybe?»

«Not really,» Dejan grinned for a moment, then he took a deep breath. «It was more something like: “Hi, Sini, it’s five years since I saw you kicking those footballs all alone for the first time, I spent almost half of the next three weeks spying on you and I got a crush on you, so hard I couldn’t manage to dismiss anything about you from my head since then”.» Dejan blinked once or twice in the heavy, tick silence between them. «Guess I went too far.»

«You’re honest, at least.» Siniša found hard to stay serious for more than a couple of seconds, and his smile somewhat reassured Dejan he wouldn’t blurt anything about that. «You’re a nice boy.»

«I thought… um, I hoped… well, I was quite sure you were like me.» Dejan came closer to Siniša, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, but still glancing down. «And I haven’t been that honest. I dreamt to wear these colors, just long enough to wait for you to undress me, and have sex every time there’s no training and the door of our room for the next three days could stay locked.»

«Who are you and what have you done of that innocent kid at the Red Star?»

«Why did you ever think I was?»

«It seemed you were. And molesting underage kids is still against the law… even if they stand for it.» Siniša struck gently his hand along Dejan’s naked forearm, feeling unsuspected muscles under his fingers. «I didn’t think my intentions were so clear, Deki.»

Dejan breathed in and put his hands wide open on Siniša’s chest. «I’m nineteen now, no risks for your reputation until someone kicks in. And I waited for you. And I want you.» He gasped. «Please.»

«”Please”?» Siniša acted like he was disappointed. «I was already getting used to your slutness,» he said, sliding his hands under Dejan’s tight jeans and holding him firmly. «I liked it.»

«You perv» Dejan retorted, but he leant toward Siniša and looked for a deep kiss.

* * *

«You’re not taking me home.» Dejan’s voice trembled in drunkenness and expectation while Siniša drove his car through the narrow and almost empty streets.

«Thought you wouldn’t complain.»

«I’m not» Dejan babbled, trying not to mash the words one with another. «Even if I’d be the hero of the day at home and my room’s still free, mum wouldn’t be so pleased to see me as pickled as I’m now.»

«Neither she would like to stare as his heroic son makes room in his own bed for another man» Siniša grinned, but he groaned when Dejan hit him on the arm still on the gear.

«There was no way you could stay at my place, by the way.»

«What a pity.» Siniša turned off the car and checked its position in the parking lot, then he glanced at Dejan, smiling at him almost asleep against the window. «Hey, if you’re so tired we can just get together another day.»

Dejan groaned and tried to stretch in his seat. «No» he moaned, in a soft, scared plea. «We… we had such beautiful days. It’s not my fault if they made me toss off all those beers.» Dejan opened the car door carefully and smiled, while the cool breeze of the night helped him get things clear in the head: soon he could distinguish the light-up window and the white bricks hotelfront. «Where are we?»

«I reserved a room here when I heard we would have played our last friendly in Belgrade.»

«Aha» he nodded, but he looked at Siniša with open wide-eyes. «Hey, I wasn’t even called up for this friendly until two weeks ago,» Dejan protested, «how could you know all of… of this would happen?»

«You’re mean by saying just “all of this”. And you said I could read the future when you arrived and seduced me» Siniša grinned.

«I didn’t seduce-- crap, Sini, I was joking about that fortune-telling shit!» Dejan shouted, half-pissed, half-amused. «And I didn’t seduce you. I just…» he stopped, rubbing down his temples with his fingertips to try and keep his thoughts clear. «I just admitted I liked you, hoping you would like me too. That’s not “seducing”.»

«Well, that's not what it was to me, at least… but okay, let’s stick to your version.» Siniša made sure Dejan’s arm was lying over his shoulder and entered the hotel, showing his reservation to the receptionist. While she started looking for their key, Siniša whispered to Dejan’s ear, «So I can seduce you without consequences, Deki.»

Dejan blushed vividly at those words, and stood quiet until he and Siniša arrived in their room; then he tried to free his arm, but Siniša prevented him to do so and pushed him onto the bed, leaning toward him shortly after.

«Don’t even try to stop me» Siniša whispered in warning, taking Dejan’s shirt off and undoing the button of his jeans, «or I’ll have to break down the negotiations».

Dejan lifted slightly and kissed him on the lips; he shivered when he felt Siniša’s hands holding his hips tight, then slipping under his underwear and undressing Dejan completely. «I’d never do that. What negotiations?»

Siniša undressed quickly and brushed gently his lubed fingers against Dejan, preparing him at the same pace of his moaning. «You didn’t read any newspaper, did you?»

«I was too busy giving and getting handjobs» Dejan smiled innocently and groaned louder as Siniša slid a finger inside him. «Where are you going?»

Siniša grinned, ready to see amazement and joy on Dejan’s face. «Lazio» he said in a whisper, while pushing himself into Dejan, so slowly he could hear just his pleasure moans.

«This makes me feel good beyond expectation» Dejan panted, letting him thrust harder inside him.

«Fucking?»

«Not yet» he replied with a naughty shade, letting an obscene moan go when Siniša held his erection firmly and started giving him pleasure. «You were talking about Lazio.»

«You’re impossible.»

«And we both knew that» Dejan grinned. «Besides, you still have to teach me how to take free kicks» he added, his voice and his head confused by the beer and the orgasm.

* * *

«Hey, still there?» he asked with a kiss.

Dejan stretched his arms, barely grazing the bed head with his fingertips. «Yeah» he muttered softly, without turning to Siniša: Dejan was lying in his embrace, the warmth of his chest clashing against the little, sparkling shivers of pleasure still running down the spine; Siniša pressed again his lips on Dejan’s shoulder, waiting for an explanation for his sudden silence.

«You were quiet for such a long time, I thought you fell asleep,» Siniša said, still uncertain, playing gently with the hair on his neck and smiling when Dejan shook his head. «What are you thinking about?»

Dejan felt a simple word – just two letters, the correct answer to his question – burning on his tongue with an unusual strength, the overwhelming might of a life spent sharing everything with Siniša.

True, the colors they wore changed through time, and every time they played together Dejan felt _free_ as the eagle flying in the sky-blue and white of Lazio shirts and _powerful_ as the Dragon he’s still nicknamed after – as Inter’s giant snake, ready to swallow any opponent on his path. He felt _proud_ when he wore again his national team colors, and later when he became the Serbia leader as Siniša never managed to (and Dejan always knew how much he desired that yellow brace, so he couldn’t get along without feeling somewhat guilty even when Siniša insisted and fastened it with a proud smile at his first match as the captain). And he felt _happy_ even when Siniša ended his career, because he was sure of his choice and he liked the chance to work with Roberto – with him – for another two years, before obtaining his coach job.

His feelings had been bonded very often with Siniša’s ones, and Dejan always felt so good with him, wherever they had been and whatever they were doing, that he couldn’t think about things going in a different way since he was a clueless boy in the youth team of Red Star.

Dejan breathed out, the burning need to answer finally extinguished, and grinned at Siniša. «You’re the fortune-teller gipsy» Dejan said, sitting astride his naked body and feeling his excitement while he wrapped his fingers around Siniša’s wrists. «Try and guess, or shut me up.»

«Why your friends can’t keep you busy during the week and drain your energy by fucking you?» Siniša groaned, sliding again into his body.

«We have a couple of trophies to defend, you know» he replied with the most innocent smile he ever did in ages, kissing him intensely and muffling his moaning in the hot breath bound between their lips.

**Author's Note:**

>  **2010/09/11 - A/N, trivia & acknowledgements:**   
> ... I never wrote 2,400+ words in English O_O -> *iz shocked*
> 
> Dejan and Siniša have spent most of their careers playing for the same teams. They knew each other at Red Star Belgrade, when Deki was a little, shy 14 years old kid just promoted to the youth team, while Sini was one of the heroes who won the cup now known as Champions League.  
> They played for Lazio from 1998 to 2004, then Dejan signed for Inter in the last days of January 2004... and Siniša moved to Inter in the summer of the same year. They played together for two more years, until the end of Mihajlović's career. (A not comprehensive picspam of their love [here](http://img529.imageshack.us/img529/4236/picspam06.jpg), HA.)
> 
> I want to thank , because I'd be lost without her. She's a lot more than just a beta-reader, a guide, a friend, and I love her so much. ♥  
> And I want to thank Deki, such is the esteem and the affection I feel for him: happy birthday to a great boycrush player, and a great man, who I'd like to meet someday. (Without showing him any of my writings about him, of course.) (... but there's a little chance he could even appreciate them. LOL.) ♥  
> Finally – and obviously – I thank you too, especially if you've managed to read this far. ♥


End file.
